Waking in the wee hours of this morning There is a thirst in my soul And I pray and read Your word Aware How my innermost core Longs for a drink from The everlasting Living Water. How I long to sink my roots Deeply into the earth Beside the rivers mighty flow. Somehow You see, Somehow You know, Grant me what I need. Breathing in the Sonrise as dew dissolves Knowledge warms my wounded heart And I pray and devour Your word Aware How my soul aches deeply For You in my hearts You shaped missing puzzle piece. How everything in me responds To Your urging self-examination Of me in Your Word. Somehow You know, Somehow You have heard Grant me now Your wisdom. Warming as the Son warms the earth Stretching to see what God fulfills And I pray and feast on Your word Aware How perfectly You respond To my specific needs right here Right where I am. How blessed I am O Holy One That You love me Completely as Your own. Somehow now my eyes are opened Somehow Your knowledge to me is known, You are the the Great I Am. ----dfav 4/7/2021
There’s a picture in my texts,
A poignant voice in my ears,
Not a reminder of a tragic accident but,
That God’s timing is not based on our fears.
There are lots better pictures now,
This one is several weeks old,
A picture of a young man who was,
Broken and battered, far from the goal.
Ahh!! But we’ve prayed to The Great Physician,
The Healer, the Miracle Worker, The Living God.
And we’ve believed every Word and Promise,
‘Cause that’s how we roll with God.
I keep the photos and texts,
Because one thing you can’t deny,
Is the love and adoration in his eyes,
For the young woman at his side.
It’s the first of many confirmations,
God hears and answers our prayers,
Pray on in faith with thanksgiving,
God’s love will flood down in care.
I’ll know in my heart when it’s time,
To save, remove and let go,
Until God is finished answering prayers,
The picture shows all I need to know.
Thankin’ ya kindly for ya prayin’
For I be wakin’ this here mornin’
Just ‘ a knowin’ they be there
Like’in a lots of invisible hands
Yeap ya prayin’ pull me throughz
The good Lord He be hearin’
Ya prayin’ like sayin’ “Yes’ em ya can”!
I be lookin’ outs this here windows ‘tently
At the darkin’ darkests night relently
Why it hangin’ on so stubborn like?
Like’in my pain throughs the ways?
Don’t wanna let go, no it shore don’t
But God He’s rights here a listenin’
And He’s be bringin’ long the day.
Yeap! Can’t ya just a see it in those skies?
Lookin’ out throughs believin’ eyez
God, He’s be bringin’ up the dawn
Soon, oh soon, that Son will rise
And within’ each color streakin’ out
All us who know’em gonna shout
The Son He’s here the dark goes bys.
So I be thankin’ ya kindly for ya prayin’
God hear’d ya and I’m thankful for what ya sayin’
This ole’ pain hangin’ in but that be okay
God He’s here both days and nights
The Son bringin’ permanent relief real soon
But for rights now can’t ya see the Sonrise?
That’s the ‘pearance gonna set it’s all a’right.
The dwelling was dark and only the loud and drawn out snores of her father broke the night’s silence. It was an hour and twelve minutes before the 2:13 train would come squealing by the mobile home park. Inside this double-wide, four bedroom home only one person was awake. The snores of her father weren’t what kept her up, her eyes staring at the ceiling, her thoughts churning like an washing machine. No, it was a new awareness brought forth by one man’s testimony at church that night.
Brother Cade had once been one of the community drunks, he had even often struck his wife in his intoxicated rages. Then his own son had stood before him, his then fourteen-year-old son, with a promising baseball future but who had a zeal for the Lord had confronted his father’s sin. Carlton had reproached his father in love but with equal truth. Brother Cade had refused to admit he listened, had shoved Carlton against the living room wall, and tried even to punch him in the face, missing only in his impaired condition.
Carlton had looked his father right in his eyes with tears sliding down his face and said, “I am praying for you Dad. I love you. I can’t be a silent witness to you wrecking your own life. I won’t let you continue to hit Mom. So you can hit me. I will be the one waiting for you to make it home, you can take your anger out on me instead. But I will always be praying for you. Always hoping God will get through to you, even if it means taking my life to open your heart, I will ask God to do as He wills. Mom and Mindy are praying too.”
That summer, only five months later, Brother Cade had been drinking and should never have been behind the wheel of his Ford truck as he weaved the truck toward home. Carlton and his mother and younger sister Mindy had been returning from an away baseball game in the family station wagon. Mindy had been asleep so she never knew before the accident that it was her father’s truck that sped through the red light toward them. But Brother Cade had seen his wife and son’s face, they had known it was him as the two vehicles smashed into one another. The truck had slammed the station wagon into the brick retaining wall of the park.
In a few moments Brother Cade nearly lost his wife, his son and his daughter. He remembered Carlton’s confrontation, his promise to ask God to open his dad’s heart even if it meant his own life. It almost had.
Brother Cade found God that night by the side of the road in the midst of the swirling police, fire and rescue lights and controlled frenzy. Carlton would never play baseball again he had been paralyzed from the waist down. Mindy was spared major injury but bore a scar across her lovely face. Their mother, Karen, had been unconscious for two weeks from head trauma.
Brother Cade had looked at the young people and told them to never discount what God might do through them. Carlton had been the way God got Brother Cade’s attention, for he had dared to tell his father the truth, present the gospel and offer himself as a sacrifice for his dad’s salvation.
Now in the darkness another young person pleaded for God to use her to reach the heart of another lost father. Her prayers were silent but they were heard by the One who they were meant to be heard by.
“Pour me out Lord, empty me, just don’t let Daddy die without You. Use me as You will Abba Father.” She prayed as sleep claimed her at last.
The 2:13 train was right on time and as the last of its bumping, grinding and squealing died away all the residents of the green and white double-wide finally slept. No one knew yet how the then fourteen-year-old daughter’s prayers would be answered.
To be continued…